Partying like it’s the late 1900s: the Breeders and Belly at the Warfield

Working as a stagehand at a music venue, you see enough middle-aged men whose bands you’ve never heard of strut across a stage. Thus, attending the Breeders’ 30th anniversary tour of their 1993 album Last Splash, supported by none other than the equally beloved femme alt-rock band Belly, was a breath of fresh (if beer-scented) air.

There could not have been a more perfect lineup for the show—Belly was formed by frontwoman Tanya Donelly in 1991 after a brief stint as the Breeders’ guitarist. The interconnectedness and close-knit friendship between the two bands was apparent not only in the mutual admiration they expressed for each other onstage, but also in the songwriting and arrangements themselves. Somehow, in their 30 years of musicianship, the two bands had never shared a stage before this tour. This long-overdue convergence begot incredible performances by both bands at the Warfield on October 23rd, a sold out Monday show.

Dutifully sticking it out in the merch line, we missed the first 2.75 songs of Belly’s set. But arriving on the scene to find a cascade of drums and cymbals elevated on risers, creating the visual effect of a percussive waterfall, and the bands’ massive bass cabs looming onstage, we knew there was plenty of action yet to come. Beneath yellow and blue lights that hearkened to the name of their 1993 album Star, Belly unleashed the coveted musical excellence of a bygone age, with lilting bass and guitar feedback sending tremors through the floor.

Seeing Donelly’s bleached blonde hair, as well as bassist Gail Greenwood’s thick eyeliner and black band tee, I couldn’t help but recall the L7 show I had worked in May. The common thread was a feeling of awe and respect for these iconic women musicians who helped to blaze a trail for those who would follow in their footsteps, by taking no bullshit and advocating for themselves. Their place in music history is secured, and this fact found expression throughout their set. The band remarked that the last time they had played the Warfield was 30 years ago the next day, October 24th, when “a little band called Radiohead” opened for them. Even their more recent music showcased their position amid the greats—the arpeggiated opening riff of “Human Child” from Dove (2018) was almost an exact inversion of the intro to “Linger” by the Cranberries, with the same snare heavy drums to match.

Towards the halfway point of their set, Donnely asked the audience if they were ready to party like it was the late 1900s, eliciting resounding laughter and applause. As an art history major coming down from midterms, currently purging names and dates that have been burned into my mind, this appeal to a higher temporal order was especially pertinent for me. The already high spirits of the crowd reached a climax right afterwards, as the band launched into their chart-topping track “Feed the Tree.” With guitar fuzz settings and vocals locked in, they glided through the verses and choruses, ending the song off in unison to four beats of the drums. During the band’s final song, “Low Red Moon,” yellow spotlights swept over the crowd, like searchlights accompanying the chilling melody.

At a quarter past 9, the Breeders took to their posts, with dramatic red stage lights illuminating their path. Announcing their intention to play Last Splash from front to back, they proceeded to breeze through song after song, reproducing all of the verve that can be found in their now 30-year-old studio recordings live onstage. In order to do the original versions justice, frontwoman Kim Deal sang into two different mics, one highly distorted to sound almost like a blown-out intercom. This microphone was positioned at chest level, for reasons that remain unknown—the result was Deal bending over for much of “Cannonball” to belt into its grill, simultaneously playing acoustic rhythm guitar. The presence of multiple acoustic guitars onstage, as well as a live violin player, added an additional richness to the crunchy modulation so central to the Breeders’ sound.

Like Belly, the Breeders did not hesitate to date themselves during the show, and in fact used this to their advantage in their stage banter. Right before “Flipside,” Deal remarked that “we’re almost done with side A!” With the mounting return of vinyl records, cassettes, and CDs in recent years, the joke had intergenerational appeal. The continual, in fact everlasting, impact of the Breeders’ music was clear from the demographic of the crowd, which ranged from mothers to their daughters, OG fans to debutante devotees. 

Now comes my guilty admission—I had barely listened to the Breeders’ discography before the show, nervously (but optimistically) hoping that attending the concert would change my peripheral relationship to their music. I need not have been worried. In addition to the instrumental diversity, the songs were enchantingly arranged. Not only did the band employ three-part vocal harmony, the guitar and bass played in harmony as well, their respective parts traveling up and down the scales together. The syncopation of the drums kept me on my toes. Negative space allowed individual instruments to shine—not only in “No Aloha,” for which Deal performs the first half of the song solo, but throughout the many other songs on the album. The structuring of the record itself, meandering between high energy tracks and quieter interludes, provided the perfect foundation for a well-rounded set.

Before closing out Last Splash with “Roi (reprise),” Deal revealed that the band would soon retreat backstage, compose themselves, and return for an encore of music from their other albums. The crowd responded with wild applause, and even humored the Breeders’ facetious parting waves as they set down their instruments, secure in the knowledge of what would soon ensue. During their brief absence, my fellow concertgoers speculated about what songs would be played, and from which other albums. The Pod (1990) merch at the venue’s concessionaire were a hint that “When I Was a Painter” and “Doe” among other tracks from the record would be included, but few if any were expecting to see Donelly return to the stage along with the Breeders, just in time to perform “Gigantic” by the Pixies. This unforeseen addition was a major hit, and only further cemented the music-historical nature of the show. The rest of the extensive encore was a caffeine-crazed blur, but nevertheless a joyful and fulfilling end to a momentous night with, as my partner likes to say, two of “the greatest bands of all time.”

Article by Sophia Shen

Photos by Lucy Gleeson